Rings of Gold
by Selene Illusinia
Summary: Fury has a job for May, and it involves the newly revived Coulson


"He's not dead."

The words barely registered in May's mind; could barely be processed by her brain that refused to comprehend what Fury was saying. She'd seen his body, heard the reports. Hell, she'd _read_ every one of the reports she could get just trying to wrap her mind around it.

_He's not dead._

That wasn't possible. It couldn't be. And yet, here Fury was, telling her that Phillip J. Coulson wasn't dead.

The man in question sat behind his desk, fingers steepled as he looked at her with his one good eye. His look, leveled so casually at her, was almost morbidly serious in nature. He wasn't telling a joke and he wasn't trying to get her hopes (the few she had that a good man like Phil hadn't been lost from the world) up. She didn't show what she was feeling anymore; it took too much effort to pretend like she was always alright. So she simply gave everyone the same look, to simplify her life; to keep her job; to continue to just _function._ It was the same face she wore now, as Fury told her this impossible news.

Phil was the only one who somehow saw passed what she showed. He knew what she was thinking like the mind reader he was and now, he was dead.

_No, he's not. He's alive. _Maybe.

"I saw his body sir." It's one of the hardest statements for her to utter. Facing Phil's death had been like nothing she'd faced before. Killing? Something she was appalling familiar with; it was why she preferred her hands to a gun. At least using her hands, death would be quick for whoever was on the receiving end _if_ they died at all. Death, like killing, was another subject she was all too familiar with. Everyone had lost agents they knew in the field. But loosing someone so close to her, one of the few people she _trusted_, had cut in a way no knife or bullet could.

"Yes, you did." Fury's confirmation made her stomach sink like a lead balloon. "But we brought him back. He's alive again, Agent May, and I need you to do two things."

_Alive._ He's alive.

Without thought, her fingers went to her throat, brushing a simple chain hidden by the collar of her shirt. A simple chain with a simple treasure strung onto it. No one in SHIELD knew about the little keepsake; she kept it tucked safely out of sight. Out of the way where no one would know about it. The simple band, undecorated gold given to her as a gift by the one person who could read her like a book: Phillip J. Coulson. It wasn't a proposal, it was a promise. A solemn oath to support her in any way she needed. It was his way of saying: I'm always with you. The circle meant eternity; it meant a never ending promise. The fact that she knew he carried an ring on an identical chain that hung around his own neck made the promise all the more real. He would always been there for her.

And then he died. Or so she thought.

"Is he the same man?" Though her voice does not waver, the fear that floods her with that question is foreign and dark. Like a wave of icy black water, it swept over her in a near overwhelming tide. If he wasn't the same man, the fact that he was alive didn't matter. If he wasn't still Phillip J. Coulson, Captain America fan boy, super agent, and winning of the 'Most Innocuous Person In the World' award, then his _body_ being alive didn't matter.

"He's changed, but not in any way that isn't predictable from a near death experience," informed Fury with a shrug, leaning back in his chair. His one eye swept to the side of the room for a moment before refocusing on May. "He hasn't changed in any way you didn't. He's probably changed less."

May nodded once, slowly, her fingers sliding down the chain a little. Fury wouldn't say a word about the chain, nor would he ask. He didn't care, as long as everyone, in his exact words, 'keeps it in their motherfucking pants during work hours and I don't walk into a room and learn more about some motherfucker than I ever wanted to'. There had been an additional comment about gags and leather being things that shouldn't be found in the work place too (outside of interrogation), but she suspected that was a targeted response towards some idiot who'd had the misfortune of having Fury walk in on them.

"Well?" pressed Fury, drawing her out of her dazed thoughts. His one eye was bearing into her own over his fingers, face locked in his 'I need your full attention now' face. "Look May, I know Phil helped you out a lot after Bahrain. I'm giving him a team and a plane to keep him off base until we can be sure he's gonna stay stable." Sighing, he leaned forward again, dropping his hands to cross his arms on the desk. "The shit that brought him back was all experimental, so god knows if there will be side effects or not. We're monitoring him now, but he ain't gonna let us keep him down indefinitely and keeping him in a constant environment does us no good. So, we're gonna let him go. I want you to keep an eye on him." His finger leveled at her as he said the last bit, looking down at her like he was looking down a scope.

"Why me, sir?" questioned May calmly, leveling her gaze at the man and dropping her hand away from the chain. Beneath her shirt, the ring brushed her skin softly, it's presence like a heavy reminder against her sternum. She'd almost taken it off more times than she could count since news of his death reached her, but every time her hands had been unable to draw the chain over her head. Now, she was glad she hadn't. He'd survived.

"Because he'll want you on his team," stated Fury simply. "That's a damn given, even if it's just as the goddamn pilot. He's been working to get you back into the field for years, and this will be his chance. No restrictions."

Sighing, May nodded once again, closing her eyes in hopes of calming her mind. "What would I have to do, sir?"

"You'd keep an eye on him for signs of deterioration," stated Fury simply. "And in the worst case scenario, take him down."

_Take him down_. The words made her stomach drop like a stone from the sky. Fury might want her to 'take him down'. Could she do that to Phil? Could she really bring herself to kill a man who had always supported her?

"You won't be alone," added Fury. "Telling the rest of his team you're monitoring him is out of the question, but tell me what you'll need to take care of him and I'll do the rest."

Opening her eyes once more, May meet Fury's eyes with the cold detachment she'd embraced since Bahrain. "How many people?"

"Five, including yourself and Coulson," stated Fury, eying May carefully. "If you think you'd have trouble pulling the trigger in an emergency, I'd suggest a specialist who won't would be a good addition."

"Agreed," confirmed May. In an emergency, in a case where Phil was suffering, she liked to think she could pull the trigger. That didn't mean she actually could. "I'll need his medical reports, at least the abbreviated ones, to know what we might need medically."

"I'll have an abridged copy handed over of the injuries he sustained and the basic areas that were healed or altered during the procedures," agreed Fury, nodding once as he reached into his desk. "I can't give you the full thing, but part of it should be available. Some of his memories were altered, too. There was some trauma sustained during his revival that we don't want him remembering. It won't do anything but cause him pain."

"His memories were altered?" repeated May, one of her eyebrows rising. What could have happened during the procedure that required that?

"Yes," confirmed Fury calmly, drawing a cellphone and file from his desk and pushing both across to May. "He also thinks he was only dead for 20 seconds and it needs to stay that way, otherwise who knows what it could do to his head. We don't want him to know he was dead for days. It could cause damage to his psyche. You'll get the reports." Tapping the phone once, Fury changed topics with the skill of a man who was used to not being questioned. It also meant the discussion was over. "This phone will connect to a direct line to me. Understand?"

Nodding, May picked up the device as soon as Fury removed his hand. It felt heavy, like a broken promise. "I never agreed to do this, sir."

"You're going to though," stated Fury simply. Leaning back again, he re-steepled his hands and shrugged. "You don't trust anyone else to do this job."

It was true, she didn't. The field was a place she'd never wanted to go again, but if she was only going to be the pilot, it might work. Not that she really thought she would _just_ be the pilot, but it was a fantasy she could entertain for now. Whatever happened later, would happen later. "Anything else, sir?"

"No Agent May, you're dismissed," cleared Fury, dropping his hands as he focused his attention back on the monitor beside him. "The file contains your mission specs, it'll help you compile a list of skills you'll need. Burn it when you're done reading it, along with the medical report. I don't want either falling into anyone else's hands."

"Yes, sir," confirmed May, picking up the folder as she stood. There was nothing else to say, so she simply said nothing as she stood and exited the office with both the file and cellphone in hand.

Flopping back on the couch, May closed her eyes and rubbed a finger over the stinging orbs. Fury's file had been straight forward and contained details he hadn't mentioned in their meeting. A _lot_ of details. Such as the line that would be available to her in the cockpit of the plane and some additional notes on Phil's condition. On paper at least, he appeared to still be himself. If that would hold up in person, she'd have to wait to see. Hopefully though, it wouldn't be much different.

What concerned her more was the list of symptoms she was to watch out for. Though most were things like signs that he was beginning to remember things he shouldn't and insomnia, a few were more dangerous. Such as paranoia, delusion, and metal degradation. _Those_ were the symptoms she was worried about. After all, if Phil had some kind of a mental break on the plane while it was in mid air and fell into a paranoid state where he couldn't identify his own team, well, suffice to say it was an emergency waiting to happen. She would definitely need a specialist on-board who could help her. And the best way to do that was select candidates that Phil would be drawn to while at the same time ensuring one stood out skill-wise over all the rest. At least one other person on that plane needed to be able to take Phil out if necessary. After all, even if the time came, she wasn't sure she'd be able to do it.

Standing, May walked to the fireplace which she'd started earlier with both the mission file and medical file in hand. She'd memorized both, her skills as an operative never declining even with a lack of use. Opening one, she withdrew the first page of the file and tossed it into the fire place, followed by the second, then the third. It took longer to burn the sheets one by one, but it would guarantee their destruction where throwing an entire folder in could leave some pages near the center undamaged if the file wasn't allowed to burn long enough. Emptying the first folder, she tossed the empty envelope into the flames as well, more out of habit than anything, and opened the medical file next.

Between the two, the medical file was the more painful one to read. Knowing that Phil had faced what she'd read hurt and made her want to punch Fury in the balls after breaking his nose. The gratitude she felt knowing he'd been saved though, amid so much hard work, was the only thing keeping her from physically assaulting the director. That and the knowledge that she'd be thrown off this assignment if she did. And Fury was right, she didn't trust anyone else to handle this. Especially after what she'd read. If anyone was going to watch over Phil, it needed to be her. Someone who wouldn't get twitchy. Because this assignment was terrifying in many ways and a lesser agent wouldn't be able to stomach anything of this nature. But she could and would, if only because Phil is her friend and he deserves at least to have her watching his back.

Once the medical file was emptied similar to the mission file, May took a deep breath and drew the ring from her shirt. In the faint light of the fire, the gold glinted like a star on a dark night. It shone, signs of care written on it's surface. The marks that showed she polished and cared for the simple band and all it represented to her. It was a promise from Phil to watch over her, and the fact that she continued to wear it was a sign that she believed in that promise. It represented the trust and belief she placed in Phil and his abilities. A symbol of her belief in _him_.

Taking a deep breath, and with great force, May slipped the ring from her neck. Free of her skin, the simple band shone even brighter. Her hope and faith, bound in gold. For eternity.

This band meant a lot to her. Which is why, with shaking hands, she carried it into her room and lay it in a felt box on her dresser.

She couldn't wear Phil's ring on this mission. The thought of wearing that symbol of promise and support while putting a bullet in his brain sickened her in ways she hadn't been aware were possible. The ring would come, but she couldn't wear it. Not if she had to hurt Phil. Not if it came down to taking him out. Even if she wasn't the one who actually _took_ him out, she would have to make that call. And as long as she was wearing his ring, the call would go unmade.


End file.
